[Before 298] Raab Kiuprili (sternly). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[Before 343] Raab Kiuprili (in a somewhat suppressed voice). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[349] Coils round its perplexity 1817.

[Before 351] Raab Kiuprili (aloud: he and Emerick standing at equi-distance from the Palace and the Guard-house). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[351] fancied 1817, 1828, 1829.

[354] popular choice 1817, 1828, 1829.

[Before 375] Raab Kiuprili (aloud). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[395] thou 1817, 1828, 1829.

[410] his 1817, 1828, 1829.

[423] Emerick (scornfully). What? &c. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[After 426] [Exit CASIMIR in agitation. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[Before 433] Scene changes to another view, namely the back, &c. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[447] Thou 1817, 1828, 1829.

[Before 451] [She starts back—and enter, &c. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[454-5] 'Ragozzi . . . What not?'] Ragozzi . . . What not? 1817, 1828, 1829.

[460] me 1817, 1828, 1829.

[Before 464] Zapolya (coming fearfully forward). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[483] him 1817, 1828, 1829.

[495] have 1817, 1828, 1829.

[512] Andreas: He 1817, 1828, 1829.

[524] rapine] ravine 1817.

[528] Lo! . . . borne! 1817, 1828, 1829.

[533] sounds 1817, 1828, 1829.

[After 536] [Again to the infant. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[After 540] END OF THE PRELUDE. 1817.



PART II

THE SEQUEL, ENTITLED 'THE USURPER'S FATE'

ADDITIONAL CHARACTERS

OLD BATHORY, a Mountaineer. BETHLEN BATHORY, the young Prince Andreas, supposed son of Old BATHORY. LORD RUDOLPH, a Courtier, but friend to the Queen's party. LASKA, Steward to CASIMIR, betrothed to GLYCINE. PESTALUTZ, an Assassin, in EMERICK'S employ. LADY SAROLTA, Wife of LORD CASIMIR. GLYCINE, Orphan Daughter of CHEF RAGOZZI.

Between the flight of the Queen, and the civil war which immediately followed, and in which EMERICK remained the victor, a space of twenty years is supposed to have elapsed.



USURPATION ENDED; OR, SHE COMES AGAIN



ACT I

SCENE I

A Mountainous Country. BATHORY'S Dwelling at the end of the Stage. Enter LADY SAROLTA and GLYCINE.

Glycine. Well then! our round of charity is finished. Rest, Madam! You breathe quick.

Sarolta. What, tired, Glycine? No delicate court-dame, but a mountaineer By choice no less than birth, I gladly use The good strength Nature gave me.

Glycine. That last cottage 5 Is built as if an eagle or a raven Had chosen it for her nest.

Sarolta. So many are The sufferings which no human aid can reach, It needs must be a duty doubly sweet To heal the few we can. Well! let us rest. 10

Glycine. There? [Pointing to BATHORY'S dwelling.

Sarolta. Here! For on this spot Lord Casimir Took his last leave. On yonder mountain-ridge I lost the misty image which so long Lingered, or seemed at least to linger on it.

Glycine. And what if even now, on that same ridge, 15 A speck should rise, and still enlarging, lengthening, As it clomb downwards, shape itself at last To a numerous cavalcade, and spurring foremost, Who but Sarolta's own dear lord returned From his high embassy?

Sarolta. Thou hast hit my thought! 20 All the long day, from yester-morn to evening, The restless hope fluttered about my heart. Oh we are querulous creatures! Little less Than all things can suffice to make us happy; And little more than nothing is enough 25 To discontent us.—Were he come, then should I Repine he had not arrived just one day earlier To keep his birth-day here, in his own birth-place.

Glycine. But our best sports belike, and gay processions Would to my lord have seemed but work-day sights 30 Compared with those the royal court affords.

Sarolta. I have small wish to see them. A spring morning With its wild gladsome minstrelsy of birds And its bright jewelry of flowers and dew-drops (Each orbd drop an orb of glory in it) 35 Would put them all in eclipse. This sweet retirement Lord Casimir's wish alone would have made sacred: But, in good truth, his loving jealousy Did but command, what I had else entreated.

Glycine. And yet had I been born Lady Sarolta, 40 Been wedded to the noblest of the realm, So beautiful besides, and yet so stately——

Sarolta. Hush! Innocent flatterer!

Glycine. Nay! to my poor fancy The royal court would seem an earthly heaven, Made for such stars to shine in, and be gracious. 45

Sarolta. So doth the ignorant distance still delude us! Thy fancied heaven, dear girl, like that above thee, In its mere self cold, drear, colourless void, Seen from below and in the large, becomes The bright blue ether, and the seat of gods! 50 Well! but this broil that scared you from the dance? And was not Laska there: he, your betrothed?

Glycine. Yes, madam! he was there. So was the maypole, For we danced round it.

Sarolta. Ah, Glycine! why, Why did you then betroth yourself?

Glycine. Because 55 My own dear lady wished it! 'twas you asked me!

Sarolta. Yes, at my lord's request, but never wished, My poor affectionate girl, to see thee wretched. Thou knowest not yet the duties of a wife.

Glycine. Oh, yes! It is a wife's chief duty, madam! 60 To stand in awe of her husband, and obey him, And, I am sure, I never shall see Laska But I shall tremble.

Sarolta. Not with fear, I think, For you still mock him. Bring a seat from the cottage.

[Exit GLYCINE into the cottage, SAROLTA continues her speech looking after her.

Something above thy rank there hangs about thee, 65 And in thy countenance, thy voice, and motion, Yea, e'en in thy simplicity, Glycine, A fine and feminine grace, that makes me feel More as a mother than a mistress to thee! Thou art a soldier's orphan! that—the courage, 70 Which rising in thine eye, seems oft to give A new soul to its gentleness, doth prove thee! Thou art sprung too of no ignoble blood, Or there's no faith in instinct!

[Angry voices and clamour within.

Re-enter GLYCINE.

Glycine. Oh, madam! there's a party of your servants, 75 And my lord's steward, Laska, at their head, Have come to search for old Bathory's son, Bethlen, that brave young man! 'twas he, my lady, That took our parts, and beat off the intruders, And in mere spite and malice, now they charge him 80 With bad words of Lord Casimir and the king. Pray don't believe them, madam! This way! This way! Lady Sarolta's here.— [Calling without.

Sarolta. Be calm, Glycine.

Enter LASKA and Servants with OLD BATHORY.

Laska (to Bathory). We have no concern with you! What needs your presence?

Old Bathory. What! Do you think I'll suffer my brave boy 85 To be slandered by a set of coward-ruffians, And leave it to their malice,—yes, mere malice!— To tell its own tale?

[LASKA and Servants bow to Lady SAROLTA.

Sarolta. Laska! What may this mean?

Laska. Madam! and may it please your ladyship! This old man's son, by name Bethlen Bathory, 90 Stands charged, on weighty evidence, that he, On yester-eve, being his lordship's birth-day, Did traitorously defame Lord Casimir: The lord high steward of the realm, moreover——

Sarolta. Be brief! We know his titles!

Laska. And moreover 95 Raved like a traitor at our liege King Emerick. And furthermore, said witnesses make oath, Led on the assault upon his lordship's servants; Yea, insolently tore, from this, your huntsman, His badge of livery of your noble house, 100 And trampled it in scorn.

Sarolta (to the Servants who offer to speak). You have had your spokesman! Where is the young man thus accused?

Old Bathory. I know not: But if no ill betide him on the mountains, He will not long be absent!

Sarolta. Thou art his father? 105

Old Bathory. None ever with more reason prized a son; Yet I hate falsehood more than I love him. But more than one, now in my lady's presence, Witnessed the affray, besides these men of malice; And if I swerve from truth——

Glycine. Yes! good old man! 110 My lady! pray believe him!

Sarolta. Hush, Glycine Be silent, I command you. [Then to BATHORY. Speak! we hear you!

Old Bathory. My tale is brief. During our festive dance, Your servants, the accusers of my son, Offered gross insults, in unmanly sort, 115 To our village maidens. He (could he do less?) Rose in defence of outraged modesty, And so persuasive did his cudgel prove, (Your hectoring sparks so over-brave to women Are always cowards) that they soon took flight, 120 And now in mere revenge, like baffled boasters, Have framed this tale, out of some hasty words Which their own threats provoked.

Sarolta. Old man! you talk Too bluntly! Did your son owe no respect To the livery of our house?

Old Bathory. Even such respect 125 As the sheep's skin should gain for the hot wolf That hath begun to worry the poor lambs!

Laska. Old insolent ruffian!

Glycine. Pardon! pardon, madam! I saw the whole affray. The good old man Means no offence, sweet lady!—You, yourself, 130 Laska! know well, that these men were the ruffians! Shame on you!

Sarolta. What! Glycine? Go, retire! [Exit GLYCINE. Be it then that these men faulted. Yet yourself, Or better still belike the maidens' parents, Might have complained to us. Was ever access 135 Denied you? Or free audience? Or are we Weak and unfit to punish our own servants?

Old Bathory. So then! So then! Heaven grant an old man patience! And must the gardener leave his seedling plants, Leave his young roses to the rooting swine 140 While he goes ask their master, if perchance His leisure serve to scourge them from their ravage?

Laska. Ho! Take the rude clown from your lady's presence! I will report her further will!

Sarolta. Wait then, Till thou hast learnt it! Fervent good old man! 145 Forgive me that, to try thee, I put on A face of sternness, alien to my meaning!

[Then speaks to the Servants.

Hence! leave my presence! and you, Laska! mark me! Those rioters are no longer of my household! If we but shake a dewdrop from a rose 150 In vain would we replace it, and as vainly Restore the tear of wounded modesty To a maiden's eye familiarized to licence.— But these men, Laska—

Laska (aside). Yes, now 'tis coming.

Sarolta. Brutal aggressors first, then baffled dastards, 155 That they have sought to piece out their revenge With a tale of words lured from the lips of anger Stamps them most dangerous; and till I want Fit means for wicked ends, we shall not need Their services. Discharge them! You, Bathory! 160 Are henceforth of my household! I shall place you Near my own person. When your son returns, Present him to us!

Old Bathory. Ha! what strangers here! [906:1]What business have they in an old man's eye? Your goodness, lady—and it came so sudden— 165 I can not—must not—let you be deceived. I have yet another tale, but— [Then to SAROLTA aside. not for all ears!

Sarolta. I oft have passed your cottage, and still praised Its beauty, and that trim orchard-plot, whose blossoms The gusts of April showered aslant its thatch. 170 Come, you shall show it me! And, while you bid it Farewell, be not ashamed that I should witness The oil of gladness glittering on the water Of an ebbing grief. [BATHORY shows her into his cottage.

Laska (alone). Vexation! baffled! school'd! Ho! Laska! wake! why? what can all this mean? 175 She sent away that cockatrice in anger! Oh the false witch! It is too plain, she loves him. And now, the old man near my lady's person, She'll see this Bethlen hourly!

[LASKA flings himself into the seat. GLYCINE peeps in.

Glycine. Laska! Laska! Is my lady gone?

Laska. Gone.

Glycine. Have you yet seen him? 180 Is he returned? [LASKA starts up. Has the seat stung you, Laska?

Laska. No, serpent! no; 'tis you that sting me; you! What! you would cling to him again?

Glycine. Whom?

Laska. Bethlen! Bethlen! Yes; gaze as if your very eyes embraced him! 185 Ha! you forget the scene of yesterday! Mute ere he came, but then—Out on your screams, And your pretended fears!

Glycine. Your fears, at least, Were real, Laska! or your trembling limbs And white cheeks played the hypocrites most vilely! 190

Laska. I fear! whom? what?

Glycine. I know what I should fear, Were I in Laska's place.

Laska. What?

Glycine. My own conscience, For having fed my jealousy and envy With a plot, made out of other men's revenges, Against a brave and innocent young man's life! 195 Yet, yet, pray tell me!

Laska. You will know too soon.

Glycine. Would I could find my lady! though she chid me— Yet this suspense— [Going.

Laska. Stop! stop! one question only— I am quite calm—

Glycine. Ay, as the old song says, Calm as a tiger, valiant as a dove. 200 Nay now, I have marred the verse: well! this one question—

Laska. Are you not bound to me by your own promise? And is it not as plain—

Glycine. Halt! that's two questions.

Laska. Pshaw! Is it not as plain as impudence, That you're in love with this young swaggering beggar, 205 Bethlen Bathory? When he was accused, Why pressed you forward? Why did you defend him?

Glycine. Question meet question: that's a woman's privilege, Why, Laska, did you urge Lord Casimir To make my lady force that promise from me? 210

Laska. So then, you say, Lady Sarolta, forced you?

Glycine. Could I look up to her dear countenance, And say her nay? As far back as I wot of All her commands were gracious, sweet requests. How could it be then, but that her requests 215 Must needs have sounded to me as commands? And as for love, had I a score of loves, I'd keep them all for my dear, kind, good mistress.

Laska. Not one for Bethlen?

Glycine. Oh! that's a different thing. To be sure he's brave, and handsome, and so pious 220 To his good old father. But for loving him— Nay, there, indeed you are mistaken, Laska! Poor youth! I rather think I grieve for him; For I sigh so deeply when I think of him! And if I see him, the tears come in my eyes, 225 And my heart beats; and all because I dreamt That the war-wolf[908:1] had gored him as he hunted In the haunted forest!

Laska. You dare own all this? Your lady will not warrant promise-breach. Mine, pampered Miss! you shall be; and I'll make you 230 Grieve for him with a vengeance. Odd's, my fingers Tingle already! [Makes threatening signs.

Glycine (aside). Ha! Bethlen coming this way!

[GLYCINE then cries out.

Oh, save me! save me! Pray don't kill me, Laska!

Enter BETHLEN in a Hunting Dress.

Bethlen. What, beat a woman!

Laska (to Glycine). O you cockatrice!

Bethlen. Unmanly dastard, hold!

Laska. Do you chance to know 235 Who—I—am, Sir?—('Sdeath! how black he looks!)

Bethlen. I have started many strange beasts in my time, But none less like a man, than this before me That lifts his hand against a timid female.

Laska. Bold youth! she's mine.

Glycine. No, not my master yet, 240 But only is to be; and all, because Two years ago my lady asked me, and I promised her, not him; and if she'll let me, I'll hate you, my lord's steward.

Bethlen. Hush, Glycine!

Glycine. Yes, I do, Bethlen; for he just now brought 245 False witnesses to swear away your life: Your life, and old Bathory's too.

Bethlen. Bathory's! Where is my father? Answer, or——Ha! gone!

[LASKA during this time retires from the Stage.

Glycine. Oh, heed not him! I saw you pressing onward, And did but feign alarm. Dear gallant youth, 250 It is your life they seek!

Bethlen. My life?

Glycine. Alas, Lady Sarolta even—

Bethlen. She does not know me!

Glycine. Oh that she did! she could not then have spoken With such stern countenance. But though she spurn me, I will kneel, Bethlen—

Bethlen. Not for me, Glycine! 255 What have I done? or whom have I offended?

Glycine. Rash words, 'tis said, and treasonous of the king.

[BETHLEN mutters to himself.

Glycine (aside). So looks the statue, in our hall, o' the god, The shaft just flown that killed the serpent!

Bethlen. King!

Glycine. Ah, often have I wished you were a king. 260 You would protect the helpless every where, As you did us. And I, too, should not then Grieve for you, Bethlen, as I do; nor have The tears come in my eyes; nor dream bad dreams That you were killed in the forest; and then Laska 265 Would have no right to rail at me, nor say (Yes, the base man, he says,) that I—I love you.

Bethlen. Pretty Glycine! wert thou not betrothed— But in good truth I know not what I speak. This luckless morning I have been so haunted 270 With my own fancies, starting up like omens, That I feel like one, who waking from a dream Both asks and answers wildly.—But Bathory?

Glycine. Hist! 'tis my lady's step! She must not see you!

[BETHLEN retires.

Enter from the Cottage SAROLTA and BATHORY.

Sarolta. Go, seek your son! I need not add, be speedy— 275 You here, Glycine? [Exit BATHORY.

Glycine. Pardon, pardon, Madam! If you but saw the old man's son, you would not, You could not have him harmed.

Sarolta. Be calm, Glycine!

Glycine. No, I shall break my heart.

Sarolta. Ha! is it so? O strange and hidden power of sympathy, 280 That of—like fates, though all unknown to each, Dost make blind instincts, orphan's heart to orphan's Drawing by dim disquiet!

Glycine. Old Bathory—

Sarolta. Seeks his brave son. Come, wipe away thy tears. Yes, in good truth, Glycine, this same Bethlen 285 Seems a most noble and deserving youth.

Glycine. My lady does not mock me?

Sarolta. Where is Laska? Has he not told thee?

Glycine. Nothing. In his fear— Anger, I mean—stole off—I am so fluttered— Left me abruptly—

Sarolta. His shame excuses him! 290 He is somewhat hardly tasked; and in discharging His own tools, cons a lesson for himself. Bathory and the youth henceforward live Safe in my lord's protection.

Glycine. The saints bless you! Shame on my graceless heart! How dared I fear, 295 Lady Sarolta could be cruel?

Sarolta. Come, Be yourself, girl!

Glycine. O, 'tis so full here! And now it can not harm him if I tell you, That the old man's son—

Sarolta. Is not that old man's son! A destiny, not unlike thine own, is his. 300 For all I know of thee is, that thou art A soldier's orphan: left when rage intestine[911:1] Shook and engulphed the pillars of Illyria. This other fragment, thrown back by that same earthquake, This, so mysteriously inscribed by nature, 305 Perchance may piece out and interpret thine. Command thyself! Be secret! His true father—— Hear'st thou?

Glycine. O tell—

Bethlen (rushing out). Yes, tell me, Shape from heaven! Who is my father?

Sarolta (gazing with surprise). Thine? Thy father? Rise!

Glycine. Alas! He hath alarmed you, my dear lady! 310

Sarolta. His countenance, not his act!

Glycine. Rise, Bethlen! Rise!

Bethlen. No; kneel thou too! and with thy orphan's tongue Plead for me! I am rooted to the earth And have no power to rise! Give me a father! There is a prayer in those uplifted eyes 315 That seeks high Heaven! But I will overtake it, And bring it back, and make it plead for me In thine own heart! Speak! Speak! Restore to me A name in the world!

Sarolta. By that blest Heaven I gazed at, I know not who thou art. And if I knew, 320 Dared I—But rise!

Bethlen. Blest spirits of my parents, Ye hover o'er me now! Ye shine upon me! And like a flower that coils forth from a ruin, I feel and seek the light I can not see!

Sarolta. Thou see'st yon dim spot on the mountain's ridge, 325 But what it is thou know'st not. Even such Is all I know of thee—haply, brave youth, Is all Fate makes it safe for thee to know!

Bethlen. Safe? Safe? O let me then inherit danger, And it shall be my birth-right!

Sarolta (aside). That look again!— 330 The wood which first incloses, and then skirts The highest track that leads across the mountains— Thou know'st it, Bethlen?

Bethlen. Lady, 'twas my wont To roam there in my childhood oft alone And mutter to myself the name of father. 335 For still Bathory (why, till now I guessed not) Would never hear it from my lips, but sighing Gazed upward. Yet of late an idle terror——

Glycine. Madam, that wood is haunted by the war-wolves, Vampires, and monstrous——

Sarolta. Moon-calves, credulous girl! 340 Haply some o'ergrown savage of the forest Hath his lair there, and fear hath framed the rest. After that last great battle, (O young man! Thou wakest anew my life's sole anguish) that Which fixed Lord Emerick on his throne, Bathory 345 Led by a cry, far inward from the track, In the hollow of an oak, as in a nest, Did find thee, Bethlen, then a helpless babe. The robe that wrapt thee was a widow's mantle.

Bethlen. An infant's weakness doth relax my frame. 350 O say—I fear to ask——

Sarolta. And I to tell thee.

Bethlen. Strike! O strike quickly! See, I do not shrink. I am stone, cold stone.

Sarolta. Hid in a brake hard by, Scarce by both palms supported from the earth, A wounded lady lay, whose life fast waning 355 Seemed to survive itself in her fixt eyes, That strained towards the babe. At length one arm Painfully from her own weight disengaging, She pointed first to heaven, then from her bosom Drew forth a golden casket. Thus entreated 360 Thy foster-father took thee in his arms, And kneeling spake: 'If aught of this world's comfort Can reach thy heart, receive a poor man's troth, That at my life's risk I will save thy child!' Her countenance worked, as one that seemed preparing 365 A loud voice, but it died upon her lips In a faint whisper, 'Fly! Save him! Hide—hide all!'

Bethlen. And did he leave her? What! had I a mother? And left her bleeding, dying? Bought I vile life With the desertion of a dying mother? 370 Oh agony!

Glycine. Alas! thou art bewildered, And dost forget thou wert a helpless infant!

Bethlen. What else can I remember, but a mother Mangled and left to perish?

Sarolta. Hush, Glycine! It is the ground-swell of a teeming instinct: 375 Let it but lift itself to air and sunshine, And it will find a mirror in the waters It now makes boil above it. Check him not!

Bethlen. O that I were diffused among the waters That pierce into the secret depths of earth, 380 And find their way in darkness! Would that I Could spread myself upon the homeless winds! And I would seek her! for she is not dead! She can not die! O pardon, gracious lady! You were about to say, that he returned— 385

Sarolta. Deep Love, the godlike in us, still believes Its objects as immortal as itself!

Bethlen. And found her still—

Sarolta. Alas! he did return, He left no spot unsearched in all the forest, But she (I trust me by some friendly hand) 390 Had been borne off.

Bethlen. O whither?

Glycine. Dearest Bethlen! I would that you could weep like me! O do not Gaze so upon the air!

Sarolta. While he was absent, A friendly troop, 'tis certain, scoured the wood, Hotly pursued indeed by Emerick.

Bethlen. Emerick. 395 Oh hell!

Glycine. Bethlen!

Bethlen. Hist! I'll curse him in a whisper! This gracious lady must hear blessings only. She hath not yet the glory round her head, Nor those strong eagle wings, which make swift way To that appointed place, which I must seek; 400 Or else she were my mother!

Sarolta. Noble youth! From me fear nothing! Long time have I owed Offerings of expiation for misdeeds Long past that weigh me down, though innocent! Thy foster-father hid the secret from thee, 405 For he perceived thy thoughts as they expanded, Proud, restless, and ill-sorting with thy state! Vain was his care! Thou'st made thyself suspected E'en where suspicion reigns, and asks no proof But its own fears! Great Nature hath endowed thee 410 With her best gifts! From me thou shalt receive All honourable aidance! But haste hence! Travel will ripen thee, and enterprise Beseems thy years! Be thou henceforth my soldier! And whatsoe'er betide thee, still believe 415 That in each noble deed, achieved or suffered, Thou solvest best the riddle of thy birth! And may the light that streams from thine own honour Guide thee to that thou seekest!

Glycine. Must he leave us?

Bethlen. And for such goodness can I return nothing 420 But some hot tears that sting mine eyes? Some sighs That if not breathed would swell my heart to stifling? May heaven and thine own virtues, high-born lady, Be as a shield of fire, far, far aloof To scare all evil from thee! Yet, if fate 425 Hath destined thee one doubtful hour of danger, From the uttermost region of the earth, methinks, Swift as a spirit invoked, I should be with thee! And then, perchance, I might have power to unbosom These thanks that struggle here. Eyes fair as thine 430 Have gazed on me with tears of love and anguish, Which these eyes saw not, or beheld unconscious; And tones of anxious fondness, passionate prayers, Have been talked to me! But this tongue ne'er soothed A mother's ear, lisping a mother's name! 435 O, at how dear a price have I been loved And no love could return! One boon then, lady! Where'er thou bidd'st, I go thy faithful soldier, But first must trace the spot, where she lay bleeding Who gave me life. No more shall beast of ravine 440 Affront with baser spoil that sacred forest! Or if avengers more than human haunt there, Take they what shape they list, savage or heavenly, They shall make answer to me, though my heart's blood Should be the spell to bind them. Blood calls for blood! 445

[Exit Bethlen.

Sarolta. Ah! it was this I feared. To ward off this Did I withhold from him that old Bathory Returning hid beneath the self-same oak, Where the babe lay, the mantle, and some jewel Bound on his infant arm.

Glycine. Oh, let me fly 450 And stop him! Mangled limbs do there lie scattered Till the lured eagle bears them to her nest. And voices have been heard! And there the plant grows That being eaten gives the inhuman wizard Power to put on the fell hyna's shape. 455

Sarolta. What idle tongue hath bewitched thee, Glycine? I hoped that thou had'st learnt a nobler faith.

Glycine. O chide me not, dear lady; question Laska, Or the old man.

Sarolta. Forgive me, I spake harshly. It is indeed a mighty sorcery 460 That doth enthral thy young heart, my poor girl, And what hath Laska told thee?

Glycine. Three days past A courier from the king did cross that wood; A wilful man, that armed himself on purpose: And never hath been heard of from that time! 465

[Sound of horns without.

Sarolta. Hark! dost thou hear it!

Glycine. 'Tis the sound of horns! Our huntsmen are not out!

Sarolta. Lord Casimir Would not come thus! [Horns again.

Glycine. Still louder!

Sarolta. Haste we hence! For I believe in part thy tale of terror! But, trust me, 'tis the inner man transformed: 470 Beasts in the shape of men are worse than war-wolves.

[SAROLTA and GLYCINE exeunt. Trumpets, &c. louder. Enter EMERICK, LORD RUDOLPH, LASKA, and Huntsmen and Attendants.

Rudolph. A gallant chase, sire.

Emerick. Aye, but this new quarry That we last started seems worth all the rest.

[then to Laska.

And you—excuse me—what's your name?

Laska. Whatever Your majesty may please.

Emerick. Nay, that's too late, man. 475 Say, what thy mother and thy godfather Were pleased to call thee.

Laska. Laska, my liege sovereign.

Emerick. Well, my liege subject, Laska! And you are Lord Casimir's steward?

Laska. And your majesty's creature.

Emerick. Two gentle dames made off at our approach. 480 Which was your lady?

Laska My liege lord, the taller. The other, please your grace, is her poor handmaid, Long since betrothed to me. But the maid's froward— Yet would your grace but speak—

Emerick. Hum, master steward! I am honoured with this sudden confidence. 485 Lead on. [to Laska, then to Rudolph. Lord Rudolph, you'll announce our coming. Greet fair Sarolta from me, and entreat her To be our gentle hostess. Mark, you add How much we grieve, that business of the state Hath forced us to delay her lord's return. 490

Lord Rudolph (aside). Lewd, ingrate tyrant! Yes, I will announce thee.

Emerick. Now onward all. [Exeunt attendants. A fair one, by my faith! If her face rival but her gait and stature, My good friend Casimir had his reasons too. 'Her tender health, her vow of strict retirement, 495 Made early in the convent—His word pledged—' All fictions, all! fictions of jealousy. Well! If the mountain move not to the prophet, The prophet must to the mountain! In this Laska There's somewhat of the knave mixed up with dolt. 500 Through the transparence of the fool, methought, I saw (as I could lay my finger on it) The crocodile's eye, that peered up from the bottom. This knave may do us service. Hot ambition Won me the husband. Now let vanity 505 And the resentment for a forced seclusion Decoy the wife! Let him be deemed the aggressor Whose cunning and distrust began the game! [Exit.

FOOTNOTES:

[906:1] This line was borrowed unconsciously from the Excursion. ['Why should a tear be in an old man's eye?' Excursion, Bk. I, l. 598 (1814).]

Refers (i. e. 'strangers' in l. 163) to the tears which he feels starting in his eye. The following line was borrowed from Mr. Wordsworth's Excursion. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[908:1] For the best account of the War-wolf or Lycanthropus, see Drayton's Moon-calf, Chalmers' English Poets, vol. iv, p. 133.

[911:1]

In the English dramatic Iambic pentameter, a [macron] and hypera-catalectic, [sic] the arsis strengthened by the emphasis (in which our blank verse differs from the Greek Prosody, which acknowledges no influence from emphasis) and assisted by the following caesura, permits the licence of an amphimacer [macron breve macron] for a spondee [macron macron]: the intermediate [breve] being sucked [u] up. Thus, orphan: left: and still more easily an amphibrach for a spondee. This oth er fragment thrown back, &c. [u] [u] [u] [u]

[MS. note by S. T. C. in copy of first Edition to lines 302 and 304. In the text 'rphan' and 'frgment' are marked with an accent.]

LINENOTES:

[11] [Pointing to BATHORY'S dwelling. SAROLTA answering, points to where she then stands.

[56] you 1817, 1828, 1829.

[After 74] [Angry voices and clamour without. 1817.

[Before 89] Laska (pompously, as commencing a set speech). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[132] Sarolta (speaks with affected anger). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[After 132] [Exit GLYCINE, mournfully. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[135] us 1817, 1828, 1829.

[174]

Of an ebbing grief. [BATHORY bowing, shows, &c.

1817, 1828, 1829.

[179]

She'll see . . . hourly. [LASKA . . . peeps in timidly.

1817, 1828, 1829.

[180] Laska (surlily). Gone. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[181]

Is he returned? [LASKA starts up from his seat.

1817, 1828, 1829.

[188] Your 1817, 1828, 1829.

[191] I should] I should 1817, 1828, 1829.

[196] Laska (malignantly). You, &c. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[207] you: you 1817, 1828, 1829.

[209] you 1817, 1828, 1829.

[211] forced 1817, 1828, 1829.

[221] loving 1817, 1828, 1829.

[222] there 1817, 1828, 1829.

[223] grieve 1817, 1828, 1829.

[Before 233] [GLYCINE then cries out as if afraid of being beaten. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[235] Laska (pompously). Do you, &c. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[241] is 1817, 1828, 1829.

[243] her: him: she'll 1817, 1828, 1829.

[After 248] [LASKA during this time slinks off the Stage, using threatening gestures to GLYCINE. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[249] him 1817, 1828, 1829.

[251] your 1817, 1828, 1829.

[After 257] [BETHLEN mutters to himself indignantly. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[Before 259] Bethlen (muttering aside). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[279]

Glycine. No . . . heart. [Sobbing.

Sarolta (taking her hand). Ha! &c.

1817, 1828, 1829.

[297]

O, 'tis so full here. [At her heart.

1817, 1828, 1829.

[299] not 1817, 1828, 1829.

[301] thee 1817, 1828, 1829.

[308]

Glycine (eagerly). O tell—

Bethlen (who had overheard the last few words, now rushes out). Yes, &c.

1817, 1828, 1829.

[309] Thy 1817, 1828, 1829.

[340] Sarolta (with a smile). Moon-calves, &c. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[After 342] [Then speaking again to BETHLEN. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[After 352] [Striking his breast. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[384] can not 1817, 1828, 1829.

[393] Sarolta (continuing the story). While, &c. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[396] Glycine (to silence him). Bethlen! 1817, 1828, 1829.

[401] she 1817, 1828, 1829.

[414] my 1817, 1828, 1829.

[456] thee 1817, 1828, 1847.

[467] Our 1817, 1828, 1829.

[480] Two 1817, 1828, 1829.

[492] Emerick (solus). A fair, &c. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[494] his 1817, 1828, 1829.

[495-6] 'Her tender . . . pledged—' 1817, 1828, 1829.

[After 508] END OF ACT I 1817.



ACT II

SCENE I

A savage wood. At one side a cavern, overhung with ivy. ZAPOLYA and RAAB KIUPRILI discovered: both, but especially the latter, in rude and savage garments.

Raab Kiuprili. Heard you then aught while I was slumbering?

Zapolya. Nothing. Only your face became convulsed. We miserable! Is heaven's last mercy fled? Is sleep grown treacherous?

Raab Kiuprili. O for a sleep, for sleep itself to rest in! I dream'd I had met with food beneath a tree, 5 And I was seeking you, when all at once My feet became entangled in a net: Still more entangled as in rage I tore it. At length I freed myself, had sight of you, But as I hastened eagerly, again 10 I found my frame encumbered: a huge serpent Twined round my chest, but tightest round my throat.

Zapolya. Alas! 'twas lack of food: for hunger chokes!

Raab Kiuprili. And now I saw you by a shrivelled child Strangely pursued. You did not fly, yet neither 15 Touched you the ground, methought, but close above it Did seem to shoot yourself along the air, And as you passed me, turned your face and shrieked.

Zapolya. I did in truth send forth a feeble shriek, Scarce knowing why. Perhaps the mock'd sense craved 20 To hear the scream, which you but seemed to utter. For your whole face looked like a mask of torture! Yet a child's image doth indeed pursue me Shrivelled with toil and penury!

Raab Kiuprili. Nay! what ails you?

Zapolya. A wondrous faintness there comes stealing o'er me. 25 Is it Death's lengthening shadow, who comes onward, Life's setting sun behind him?

Raab Kiuprili. Cheerly! The dusk Will quickly shroud us. Ere the moon be up, Trust me I'll bring thee food!

Zapolya. Hunger's tooth has Gnawn itself blunt. O, I could queen it well 30 O'er my own sorrows as my rightful subjects. But wherefore, O revered Kiuprili! wherefore Did my importunate prayers, my hopes and fancies, Force thee from thy secure though sad retreat? Would that my tongue had then cloven to my mouth! 35 But Heaven is just! With tears I conquered thee, And not a tear is left me to repent with! Had'st thou not done already—had'st thou not Suffered—oh, more than e'er man feigned of friendship?

Raab Kiuprili. Yet be thou comforted! What! had'st thou faith 40 When I turned back incredulous? 'Twas thy light That kindled mine. And shall it now go out, And leave thy soul in darkness? Yet look up, And think thou see'st thy sainted lord commissioned And on his way to aid us! Whence those late dreams, 45 Which after such long interval of hopeless And silent resignation all at once Night after night commanded thy return Hither? and still presented in clear vision This wood as in a scene? this very cavern? 50 Thou darest not doubt that Heaven's especial hand Worked in those signs. The hour of thy deliverance Is on the stroke:—for misery can not add Grief to thy griefs, or patience to thy sufferance!

Zapolya. Can not! Oh, what if thou wert taken from me? 55 Nay, thou said'st well: for that and death were one. Life's grief is at its height indeed; the hard Necessity of this inhuman state Hath made our deeds inhuman as our vestments. Housed in this wild wood, with wild usages, 60 Danger our guest, and famine at our portal— Wolf-like to prowl in the shepherd's fold by night! At once for food and safety to affrighten The traveller from his road—

[GLYCINE is heard singing without.

Raab Kiuprili. Hark! heard you not A distant chaunt? 65

SONG

By GLYCINE

A sunny shaft did I behold, From sky to earth it slanted: And poised therein a bird so bold— Sweet bird, thou wert enchanted! He sank, he rose, he twinkled, he trolled 70 Within that shaft of sunny mist; His eyes of fire, his beak of gold, All else of amethyst! And thus he sang: 'Adieu! adieu! Love's dreams prove seldom true. 75 The blossoms, they make no delay: The sparkling dew-drops will not stay. Sweet month of May, We must away; Far, far away! 80 To-day! to-day!'

Zapolya. Sure 'tis some blest spirit! For since thou slew'st the usurper's emissary That plunged upon us, a more than mortal fear Is as a wall, that wards off the beleaguerer 85 And starves the poor besieged. [Song again.

Raab Kiuprili. It is a maiden's voice! quick to the cave!

Zapolya. Hark! her voice falters! [Exit ZAPOLYA.

Raab Kiuprili. She must not enter The cavern, else I will remain unseen!

[KIUPRILI retires to one side of the stage. GLYCINE enters singing.

Glycine. A savage place! saints shield me! Bethlen! Bethlen! 90 Not here?—There's no one here! I'll sing again!

[Sings again.

If I do not hear my own voice, I shall fancy Voices in all chance sounds! [Starts. 'Twas some dry branch Dropt of itself! Oh, he went forth so rashly, Took no food with him—only his arms and boar-spear! 95 What if I leave these cakes, this cruse of wine, Here by this cave, and seek him with the rest?

Raab Kiuprili (unseen). Leave them and flee!

Glycine (shrieks, then recovering.) Where are you?

Raab Kiuprili (still unseen.) Leave them!

Glycine. 'Tis Glycine! Speak to me, Bethlen! speak in your own voice! 100 All silent!—If this were the war-wolf's den! 'Twas not his voice!—

[GLYCINE leaves the provisions, and exit. KIUPRILI comes forward, seizes them and carries them into the cavern. GLYCINE returns.

Glycine. Shame! Nothing hurt me! If some fierce beast have gored him, he must needs Speak with a strange voice. Wounds cause thirst and hoarseness! Speak, Bethlen! or but moan. St—St——No—Bethlen! 105 If I turn back and he should be found dead here,

[She creeps nearer and nearer to the cavern.

I should go mad!—Again!—'Twas my own heart! Hush, coward heart! better beat loud with fear, Than break with shame and anguish!

[As she approaches to enter the cavern, KIUPRILI stops her. GLYCINE shrieks.

Saints protect me!

Raab Kiuprili. Swear then by all thy hopes, by all thy fears— 110

Glycine. Save me!

Raab Kiuprili. Swear secrecy and silence!

Glycine. I swear!

Raab Kiuprili. Tell what thou art, and what thou seekest?

Glycine. Only A harmless orphan youth, to bring him food—

Raab Kiuprili. Wherefore in this wood?

Glycine. Alas! it was his purpose—

Raab Kiuprili. With what intention came he? Would'st thou save him, 115 Hide nothing!

Glycine. Save him! O forgive his rashness! He is good, and did not know that thou wert human!

Raab Kiuprili. Human? With what design?

Glycine. To kill thee, or If that thou wert a spirit, to compel thee By prayers, and with the shedding of his blood, 120 To make disclosure of his parentage. But most of all—

Zapolya (rushing out from the cavern). Heaven's blessing on thee! Speak!

Glycine. Whether his mother live, or perished here!

Zapolya. Angel of mercy, I was perishing And thou did'st bring me food: and now thou bring'st 125 The sweet, sweet food of hope and consolation To a mother's famished heart! His name, sweet maiden!

Glycine. E'en till this morning we were wont to name him Bethlen Bathory!

Zapolya. Even till this morning? This morning? when my weak faith failed me wholly! 130 Pardon, O thou that portion'st out our sufferance, And fill'st again the widow's empty cruse! Say on!

Glycine. The false ones charged the valiant youth With treasonous words of Emerick—

Zapolya. Ha! my son!

Glycine. And of Lord Casimir—

Raab Kiuprili (aside). O agony! my son! 135

Glycine. But my dear lady—

Zapolya and Raab Kiuprili. Who?

Glycine. Lady Sarolta Frowned and discharged these bad men.

Raab Kiuprili (to himself). Righteous Heaven Sent me a daughter once, and I repined That it was not a son. A son was given me. My daughter died, and I scarce shed a tear: 140 And lo! that son became my curse and infamy.

Zapolya (embraces Glycine). Sweet innocent! and you came here to seek him, And bring him food. Alas! thou fear'st?

Glycine. Not much! My own dear lady, when I was a child, Embraced me oft, but her heart never beat so. 145 For I too am an orphan, motherless!

Raab Kiuprili (to Zapolya). O yet beware, lest hope's brief flash but deepen The after gloom, and make the darkness stormy! In that last conflict, following our escape, The usurper's cruelty had clogged our flight 150 With many a babe and many a childing mother. This maid herself is one of numberless Planks from the same vast wreck. [Then to GLYCINE again. Well! Casimir's wife—

Glycine. She is always gracious, and so praised the old man That his heart o'erflowed, and made discovery 155 That in this wood—

Zapolya. O speak!

Glycine. A wounded lady—

[ZAPOLYA faints—they both support her.

Glycine. Is this his mother?

Raab Kiuprili. She would fain believe it, Weak though the proofs be. Hope draws towards itself The flame with which it kindles. [Horn heard without. To the cavern! Quick! quick!

Glycine. Perchance some huntsmen of the king's. 160

Raab Kiuprili. Emerick?

Glycine. He came this morning—

[They retire to the cavern, bearing ZAPOLYA. Then enter BETHLEN, armed with a boar-spear.

Bethlen. I had a glimpse Of some fierce shape; and but that Fancy often Is Nature's intermeddler, and cries halves With the outward sight, I should believe I saw it Bear off some human prey. O my preserver! 165 Bathory! Father! Yes, thou deserv'st that name! Thou did'st not mock me! These are blessed findings! The secret cypher of my destiny [Looking at his signet. Stands here inscribed: it is the seal of fate! Ha!—Had ever monster fitting lair, 'tis yonder! 170 Thou yawning den, I well remember thee! Mine eyes deceived me not. Heaven leads me on! Now for a blast, loud as a king's defiance, To rouse the monster couchant o'er his ravine!

[Blows the horn—then a pause.

Another blast! and with another swell 175 To you, ye charmd watchers of this wood! If haply I have come, the rightful heir Of vengeance: if in me survive the spirits Of those, whose guiltless blood flowed streaming here!

[Blows again louder.

Still silent? Is the monster gorged? Heaven shield me! 180 Thou, faithful spear! be both my torch and guide.

[As BETHLEN is about to enter, KIUPRILI speaks from the cavern unseen.

Raab Kiuprili. Withdraw thy foot! Retract thine idle spear, And wait obedient!

Bethlen. Ha! What art thou? speak!

Raab Kiuprili (still unseen). Avengers!

Bethlen. By a dying mother's pangs E'en such am I. Receive me!

Raab Kiuprili (still unseen). Wait! Beware! 185 At thy first step, thou treadest upon the light, Thenceforth must darkling flow, and sink in darkness!

Bethlen. Ha! see my boar-spear trembles like a reed!— Oh, fool! mine eyes are duped by my own shuddering.— Those pild thoughts, built up in solitude, 190 Year following year, that pressed upon my heart As on the altar of some unknown God, Then, as if touched by fire from heaven descending. Blazed up within me at a father's name— Do they desert me now?—at my last trial? 195 Voice of command! and thou, O hidden Light! I have obeyed! Declare ye by what name I dare invoke you! Tell what sacrifice Will make you gracious.

Raab Kiuprili (still unseen). Patience! Truth! Obedience! Be thy whole soul transparent! so the Light, 200 Thou seekest, may enshrine itself within thee! Thy name?

Bethlen. Ask rather the poor roaming savage, Whose infancy no holy rite had blest, To him, perchance, rude spoil or ghastly trophy, In chase or battle won, have given a name. 205 I have none—but like a dog have answered To the chance sound which he that fed me, called me.

Raab Kiuprili (still unseen). Thy birth-place?

Bethlen. Deluding spirits! Do ye mock me? Question the Night! Bid Darkness tell its birth-place? Yet hear! Within yon old oak's hollow trunk, 210 Where the bats cling, have I surveyed my cradle! The mother-falcon hath her nest above it, And in it the wolf litters!——I invoke you, Tell me, ye secret ones! if ye beheld me As I stood there, like one who having delved 215 For hidden gold hath found a talisman, O tell! what rights, what offices of duty This signet doth command? What rebel spirits Owe homage to its Lord?

Raab Kiuprili (still unseen). More, guiltier, mightier, Than thou mayest summon! Wait the destined hour! 220

Bethlen. O yet again, and with more clamorous prayer, I importune ye! Mock me no more with shadows! This sable mantle—tell, dread voice! did this Enwrap one fatherless!

Zapolya (unseen). One fatherless!

Bethlen. A sweeter voice!—A voice of love and pity! 225 Was it the softened echo of mine own? Sad echo! but the hope it kill'd was sickly, And ere it died it had been mourned as dead! One other hope yet lives within my soul: Quick let me ask!—while yet this stifling fear, 230 This stop of the heart, leaves utterance!—Are—are these The sole remains of her that gave me life? Have I a mother? [ZAPOLYA rushes out to embrace him. Ha!

Zapolya. My son! my son! A wretched—Oh no, no! a blest—a happy mother!

[They embrace. KIUPRILI and GLYCINE come forward and the curtain drops.

LINENOTES:

[21] hear 1817, 1828, 1829.

[57] Life's 1817, 1828, 1829.

[59] Hath 1817, 1828, 1829.

[70] sank] sank 1817, 1828, 1829.

[75-6] om. 1817.

[Before 90] Glycine (fearfully). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[102] [GLYCINE leaves the provisions, and exit fearfully. . . . GLYCINE returns, having recovered herself. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[Before 118] Raab Kiuprili (repeats the word). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[118]

Human? [Then sternly.

1817, 1828, 1829.

[135] my 1817, 1828, 1829.

Glycine. And of Lord Casimir—

Raab Kiuprili (aside). O agony! my son.

Erased [? by S. T. C. in copy of 1817.]

[137] Raab Kiuprili (turning off and to himself). 1817, 1828, 1839.

[137-41] Raab Kiuprili (turning off, &c.) . . . infamy. Erased [? by S. T. C. in copy of 1817].

[156] Zapolya (in agitation). O speak. 1817, 1838, 1829.

[170] Ha!— (observing the cave). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[183] Bethlen (in amazement). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[196] VOICE: LIGHT 1817, 1828, 1829.

[Before 225] Bethlen (starting). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[233]

[ZAPOLYA . . . him.

BETHLEN starts. Ha!

Zapolya (embracing him). My son, &c.

1817, 1828, 1829.

After 234 and stage directions. END OF ACT II. 1817.



ACT III

SCENE I

A stately room in LORD CASIMIR'S castle. Enter EMERICK and LASKA.

Emerick. I do perceive thou hast a tender conscience, Laska, in all things that concern thine own Interest or safety.

Laska. In this sovereign presence I can fear nothing, but your dread displeasure.

Emerick. Perchance, thou think'st it strange, that I of all men 5 Should covet thus the love of fair Sarolta, Dishonouring Casimir?

Laska. Far be it from me! Your Majesty's love and choice bring honour with them.

Emerick. Perchance, thou hast heard that Casimir is my friend, Fought for me, yea, for my sake, set at nought 10 A parent's blessing; braved a father's curse?

Laska (aside). Would I but knew now, what his Majesty meant! Oh yes, Sire! 'tis our common talk, how Lord Kiuprili, my Lord's father—

Emerick. 'Tis your talk, Is it, good statesman Laska?

Laska. No, not mine, 15 Not mine, an please your Majesty! There are Some insolent malcontents indeed that talk thus— Nay worse, mere treason. As Bathory's son, The fool that ran into the monster's jaws.

Emerick. Well, 'tis a loyal monster if he rids us 20 Of traitors! But art sure the youth's devoured?

Laska. Not a limb left, an please your Majesty! And that unhappy girl—

Emerick. Thou followed'st her Into the wood? [LASKA bows assent. Henceforth then I'll believe That jealousy can make a hare a lion. 25

Laska. Scarce had I got the first glimpse of her veil, When, with a horrid roar that made the leaves Of the wood shake—

Emerick. Made thee shake like a leaf!

Laska. The war-wolf leapt; at the first plunge he seized her; Forward I rushed!

Emerick. Most marvellous!

Laska. Hurled my javelin; 30 Which from his dragon-scales recoiling—

Emerick. Enough! And take, friend, this advice. When next thou tonguest it, Hold constant to thy exploit with this monster, And leave untouched your common talk aforesaid, What your Lord did, or should have done.

Laska. My talk? 35 The saints forbid! I always said, for my part, 'Was not the king Lord Casimir's dearest friend? Was not that friend a king? Whate'er he did 'Twas all from pure love to his Majesty.'

Emerick. And this then was thy talk? While knave and coward, 40 Both strong within thee, wrestle for the uppermost, In slips the fool and takes the place of both. Babbler! Lord Casimir did, as thou and all men. He loved himself, loved honours, wealth, dominion. All these were set upon a father's head: 45 Good truth! a most unlucky accident! For he but wished to hit the prize; not graze The head that bore it: so with steady eye Off flew the parricidal arrow.—Even As Casimir loved Emerick, Emerick 50 Loves Casimir, intends him no dishonour. He winked not then, for love of me forsooth! For love of me now let him wink! Or if The dame prove half as wise as she is fair, He may still pass his hand, and find all smooth. 55

[Passing his hand across his brow.

Laska. Your Majesty's reasoning has convinced me.

Emerick. Thee! 'Tis well! and more than meant. For by my faith I had half forgotten thee.—Thou hast the key? [LASKA bows. And in your lady's chamber there's full space?

Laska. Between the wall and arras to conceal you. 60

Emerick. Here! This purse is but an earnest of thy fortune, If thou prov'st faithful. But if thou betrayest me, Hark you!—the wolf that shall drag thee to his den Shall be no fiction.

[Exit EMERICK. LASKA manet with a key in one hand, and a purse in the other.

Laska. Well then! here I stand, Like Hercules, on either side a goddess. 65 Call this (looking at the purse) Preferment; this (holding up the key) Fidelity! And first my golden goddess: what bids she? Only:—'This way, your Majesty! hush! The household Are all safe lodged.'—Then, put Fidelity Within her proper wards, just turn her round— 70 So—the door opens—and for all the rest, 'Tis the king's deed, not Laska's. Do but this And—'I'm the mere earnest of your future fortunes.' But what says the other?—Whisper on! I hear you!

[Putting the key to his ear.

All very true!—but, good Fidelity! 75 If I refuse King Emerick, will you promise, And swear now, to unlock the dungeon door, And save me from the hangman? Aye! you're silent! What, not a word in answer? A clear nonsuit! Now for one look to see that all are lodged 80 At the due distance—then—yonder lies the road For Laska and his royal friend, King Emerick!

[Exit LASKA. Then enter BATHORY and BETHLEN.

Bethlen. He looked as if he were some God disguised In an old warrior's venerable shape To guard and guide my mother. Is there not 85 Chapel or oratory in this mansion?

Old Bathory. Even so.

Bethlen. From that place then am I to take A helm and breast-plate, both inlaid with gold, And the good sword that once was Raab Kiuprili's.

Old Bathory. Those very arms this day Sarolta show'd me— 90 With wistful look. I'm lost in wild conjectures!

Bethlen. O tempt me not, e'en with a wandering guess, To break the first command a mother's will Imposed, a mother's voice made known to me! 'Ask not, my son,' said she, 'our names or thine. 95 The shadow of the eclipse is passing off The full orb of thy destiny! Already The victor Crescent glitters forth and sheds O'er the yet lingering haze a phantom light. Thou canst not hasten it! Leave then to Heaven 100 The work of Heaven: and with a silent spirit Sympathize with the powers that work in silence!' Thus spake she, and she looked as she were then Fresh from some heavenly vision!

[Re-enter LASKA, not perceiving them.

Laska. All asleep!

[Then observing BETHLEN, stands in idiot-affright.

I must speak to it first—Put—put the question! 105 I'll confess all! [Stammering with fear.

Old Bathory. Laska! what ails thee, man?

Laska (pointing to Bethlen). There!

Old Bathory. I see nothing! where?

Laska. He does not see it! Bethlen, torment me not!

Bethlen. Soft! Rouse him gently! He hath outwatched his hour, and half asleep, With eyes half open, mingles sight with dreams. 110

Old Bathory. Ho! Laska! Don't you know us! 'tis Bathory And Bethlen!

Laska. Good now! Ha! ha! An excellent trick. Afraid? Nay, no offence! But I must laugh. But are you sure now, that 'tis you, yourself?

Bethlen. Would'st be convinced?

Laska. No nearer, pray! consider! 115 If it should prove his ghost, the touch would freeze me To a tombstone. No nearer!

Bethlen. The fool is drunk!

Laska. Well now! I love a brave man to my heart. I myself braved the monster, and would fain Have saved the false one from the fate she tempted. 120

Old Bathory. You, Laska?

Bethlen (to Bathory). Mark! Heaven grant it may be so! Glycine?

Laska. She! I traced her by the voice. You'll scarce believe me, when I say I heard The close of a song: the poor wretch had been singing: As if she wished to compliment the war-wolf 125 At once with music and a meal!

Bethlen (to Bathory). Mark that!

Laska. At the next moment I beheld her running, Wringing her hands with, 'Bethlen! O poor Bethlen!' I almost fear, the sudden noise I made, Rushing impetuous through the brake, alarmed her. 130 She stopt, then mad with fear, turned round and ran Into the monster's gripe. One piteous scream I heard. There was no second—I—

Bethlen. Stop there! We'll spare your modesty! Who dares not honour Laska's brave tongue, and high heroic fancy? 135

Laska. You too, Sir Knight, have come back safe and sound! You played the hero at a cautious distance! Or was it that you sent the poor girl forward To stay the monster's stomach? Dainties quickly Pall on the taste and cloy the appetite! 140

Old Bathory. Laska, beware! Forget not what thou art! Should'st thou but dream thou'rt valiant, cross thyself! And ache all over at the dangerous fancy!

Laska. What then! you swell upon my lady's favour, High Lords and perilous of one day's growth! 145 But other judges now sit on the bench! And haply, Laska hath found audience there, Where to defend the treason of a son Might end in lifting up both son and father Still higher; to a height from which indeed 150 You both may drop, but, spite of fate and fortune, Will be secured from falling to the ground. 'Tis possible too, young man! that royal Emerick, At Laska's rightful suit, may make inquiry By whom seduced, the maid so strangely missing— 155

Bethlen. Soft! my good Laska! might it not suffice, If to yourself, being Lord Casimir's steward, I should make record of Glycine's fate?

Laska. 'Tis well! it shall content me! though your fear Has all the credit of these lowered tones. 160 First we demand the manner of her death?

Bethlen. Nay! that's superfluous! Have you not just told us, That you yourself, led by impetuous valour, Witnessed the whole? My tale's of later date. After the fate, from which your valour strove 165 In vain to rescue the rash maid, I saw her!

Laska. Glycine?

Bethlen. Nay! Dare I accuse wise Laska, Whose words find access to a monarch's ear, Of a base, braggart lie? It must have been Her spirit that appeared to me. But haply 170 I come too late? It has itself delivered Its own commission to you?

Old Bathory. 'Tis most likely! And the ghost doubtless vanished, when we entered And found brave Laska staring wide—at nothing!

Laska. 'Tis well! You've ready wits! I shall report them, 175 With all due honour, to his Majesty! Treasure them up, I pray! A certain person, Whom the king flatters with his confidence, Tells you, his royal friend asks startling questions! 'Tis but a hint! And now what says the ghost! 180

Bethlen. Listen! for thus it spake: 'Say thou to Laska, Glycine, knowing all thy thoughts engrossed In thy new office of king's fool and knave, Foreseeing thou'lt forget with thine own hand To make due penance for the wrongs thou'st caused her, 185 For thy soul's safety, doth consent to take it From Bethlen's cudgel'—thus. [Beats him off. Off! scoundrel! off!

[LASKA runs away.

Old Bathory. The sudden swelling of this shallow dastard Tells of a recent storm: the first disruption Of the black cloud that hangs and threatens o'er us. 190

Bethlen. E'en this reproves my loitering. Say where lies The oratory?

Old Bathory. Ascend yon flight of stairs! Midway the corridor a silver lamp Hangs o'er the entrance of Sarolta's chamber, And facing it, the low arched oratory! 195 Me thou'lt find watching at the outward gate: For a petard might burst the bars, unheard By the drenched porter, and Sarolta hourly Expects Lord Casimir, spite of Emerick's message!

Bethlen. There I will meet you! And till then good-night! 200 Dear good old man, good-night!

Old Bathory. O yet one moment! What I repelled, when it did seem my own, I cling to, now 'tis parting—call me father! It can not now mislead thee. O my son, Ere yet our tongues have learnt another name, 205 Bethlen!—say 'Father' to me!

Bethlen. Now, and for ever My father! other sire than thou, on earth I never had, a dearer could not have! From the base earth you raised me to your arms, And I would leap from off a throne, and kneeling, 210 Ask Heaven's blessing from thy lips. My father!

Bathory. Go! Go! [Exit BETHLEN. May every star now shining over us, Be as an angel's eye, to watch and guard him! [Exit BATHORY.

Scene changes to a splendid Bed-chamber, hung with tapestry.

SAROLTA and an Attendant.

Attendant. We all did love her, madam!

Sarolta. She deserved it! Luckless Glycine! rash, unhappy girl! 215 'Twas the first time she e'er deceived me.

Attendant. She was in love, and had she not died thus, With grief for Bethlen's loss, and fear of Laska, She would have pined herself to death at home.

Sarolta. Has the youth's father come back from his search? 220

Attendant. He never will, I fear me. O dear lady! That Laska did so triumph o'er the old man— It was quite cruel—'You'll be sure,' said he, 'To meet with part at least of your son Bethlen, Or the war-wolf must have a quick digestion! 225 Go! Search the wood by all means! Go! I pray you!'

Sarolta. Inhuman wretch!

Attendant. And old Bathory answered With a sad smile, 'It is a witch's prayer, And may Heaven read it backwards.' Though she was rash, 'Twas a small fault for such a punishment! 230

Sarolta. Nay! 'twas my grief, and not my anger spoke. Small fault indeed! but leave me, my poor girl! I feel a weight that only prayer can lighten.

[Exit Attendant.

O they were innocent, and yet have perished In their May of life; and Vice grows old in triumph. 235 Is it Mercy's hand, that for the bad man holds Life's closing gate?—— Still passing thence petitionary Hours To woo the obdurate spirit to repentance? Or would this dullness tell me, that there is 240 Guilt too enormous to be duly punished, Save by increase of guilt? The Powers of Evil Are jealous claimants. Guilt too hath its ordeal, And Hell its own probation!—Merciful Heaven, Rather than this, pour down upon thy suppliant 245 Disease, and agony, and comfortless want! O send us forth to wander on, unsheltered! Make our food bitter with despisd tears! Let viperous scorn hiss at us as we pass! Yea, let us sink down at our enemy's gate, 250 And beg forgiveness and a morsel of bread! With all the heaviest worldly visitations Let the dire father's curse that hovers o'er us Work out its dread fulfilment, and the spirit Of wronged Kiuprili be appeased. But only, 255 Only, O merciful in vengeance! let not That plague turn inward on my Casimir's soul! Scare thence the fiend Ambition, and restore him To his own heart! O save him! Save my husband!

[During the latter part of this speech EMERICK comes forward from his hiding-place. SAROLTA seeing him, without recognising him.

In such a shape a father's curse should come. 260

Emerick (advancing). Fear not.

Sarolta. Who art thou? Robber? Traitor?

Emerick. Friend! Who in good hour hath startled these dark fancies, Rapacious traitors, that would fain depose Joy, love, and beauty, from their natural thrones: Those lips, those angel eyes, that regal forehead. 265

Sarolta. Strengthen me, Heaven! I must not seem afraid!

[Aside.

The king to-night then deigns to play the masker. What seeks your Majesty?

Emerick. Sarolta's love; And Emerick's power lies prostrate at her feet.

Sarolta. Heaven guard the sovereign's power from such debasement! 270 Far rather, Sire, let it descend in vengeance On the base villain, on the faithless slave Who dared unbar the doors of these retirements! For whom? Has Casimir deserved this insult? O my misgiving heart! If—if—from Heaven 275 Yet not from you, Lord Emerick!

Emerick. Chiefly from me. Has he not like an ingrate robbed my court Of Beauty's star, and kept my heart in darkness? First then on him I will administer justice— If not in mercy, yet in love and rapture. 280

[Seizes her.

Sarolta. Help! Treason! Help!

Emerick. Call louder! Scream again! Here's none can hear you!

Sarolta. Hear me, hear me, Heaven!

Emerick. Nay, why this rage? Who best deserves you? Casimir, Emerick's bought implement, the jealous slave That mews you up with bolts and bars? or Emerick 285 Who proffers you a throne? Nay, mine you shall be. Hence with this fond resistance! Yield; then live This month a widow, and the next a queen!

Sarolta. Yet, yet for one brief moment [Struggling. Unhand me, I conjure you.

[She throws him off, and rushes towards a toilet. EMERICK follows, and as she takes a dagger, he grasps it in her hand.

Emerick. Ha! Ha! a dagger; 290 A seemly ornament for a lady's casket! 'Tis held, devotion is akin to love, But yours is tragic! Love in war! It charms me, And makes your beauty worth a king's embraces!

[During this speech BETHLEN enters armed.

Bethlen. Ruffian, forbear! Turn, turn and front my sword! 295

Emerick. Pish! who is this?

Sarolta. O sleepless eye of Heaven! A blest, a blessed spirit! Whence camest thou? May I still call thee Bethlen?

Bethlen. Ever, lady, Your faithful soldier!

Emerick. Insolent slave! Depart Know'st thou not me?

Bethlen. I know thou art a villain 300 And coward! That thy devilish purpose marks thee! What else, this lady must instruct my sword!

Sarolta. Monster, retire! O touch him not, thou blest one! This is the hour that fiends and damnd spirits Do walk the earth, and take what form they list! 305 Yon devil hath assumed a king's!

Bethlen. Usurped it!

Emerick. The king will play the devil with thee indeed! But that I mean to hear thee howl on the rack, I would debase this sword, and lay thee prostrate At this thy paramour's feet; then drag her forth 310 Stained with adulterous blood, and— —mark you, traitress! Strumpeted first, then turned adrift to beggary! Thou prayed'st for't too.

Sarolta. Thou art so fiendish wicked, That in thy blasphemies I scarce hear thy threats!

Bethlen. Lady, be calm! fear not this king of the buskin! 315 A king? Oh laughter! A king Bajazet! That from some vagrant actor's tiring-room, Hath stolen at once his speech and crown!

Emerick. Ah! treason! Thou hast been lessoned and tricked up for this! As surely as the wax on thy death-warrant 320 Shall take the impression of this royal signet, So plain thy face hath ta'en the mask of rebel!

[BETHLEN seizes EMERICK'S hand and eagerly observes the signet.

Bethlen. It must be so! 'Tis e'en the counterpart! But with a foul usurping cypher on it! The light hath flashed from Heaven, and I must follow it! 325 O curst usurper! O thou brother-murderer! That mad'st a star-bright queen a fugitive widow! Who fill'st the land with curses, being thyself All curses in one tyrant! see and tremble! This is Kiuprili's sword that now hangs o'er thee! 330 Kiuprili's blasting curse, that from its point Shoots lightnings at thee. Hark! in Andreas' name, Heir of his vengeance, hell-hound! I defy thee.

[They fight, and just as EMERICK is disarmed, in rush CASIMIR, OLD BATHORY, and Attendants. CASIMIR runs in between the combatants, and parts them; in the struggle BETHLEN'S sword is thrown down.

Casimir. The king! disarmed too by a stranger! Speak! What may this mean?

Emerick. Deceived, dishonored lord! 335 Ask thou yon fair adultress! She will tell thee A tale, which would'st thou be both dupe and traitor, Thou wilt believe against thy friend and sovereign! Thou art present now, and a friend's duty ceases: To thine own justice leave I thine own wrongs. 340 Of half thy vengeance I perforce must rob thee, For that the sovereign claims. To thy allegiance I now commit this traitor and assassin.

[Then to the Attendants.

Hence with him to the dungeon! and to-morrow, Ere the sun rises,—Hark! your heads or his! 345

Bethlen. Can Hell work miracles to mock Heaven's justice?

Emerick. Who speaks to him dies! The traitor that has menaced His king, must not pollute the breathing air, Even with a word!

Casimir (to Bathory). Hence with him to the dungeon!

[Exit BETHLEN, hurried off by BATHORY and Attendants.

Emerick. We hunt to-morrow in your upland forest: 350 Thou (to Casimir) wilt attend us: and wilt then explain This sudden and most fortunate arrival.

[Exit EMERICK; Manent CASIMIR and SAROLTA.

Sarolta. My lord! my husband! look whose sword lies yonder! It is Kiuprili's, Casimir; 'tis thy father's! And wielded by a stripling's arm, it baffled, 355 Yea, fell like Heaven's own lightnings on that Tarquin.

Casimir. Hush! hush! I had detected ere I left the city The tyrant's curst intent. Lewd, damnd ingrate! For him did I bring down a father's curse! 360 Swift, swift must be our means! To-morrow's sun Sets on his fate or mine! O blest Sarolta! No other prayer, late penitent, dare I offer, But that thy spotless virtues may prevail O'er Casimir's crimes, and dread Kiuprili's curse! 365

[Exeunt.

LINENOTES:

[5] I 1817, 1828, 1829.

[34] common-talk 1817, 1828, 1829.

[35] My 1817, 1828, 1829.

[37-9] 'Was not the . . . Majesty.' 1817, 1828, 1829.

[40] thy 1817, 1828, 1829.

[51] him 1817, 1828, 1829.

[52] me 1817, 1828, 1829.

[56] Emerick (with a slight start, as one who had been talking aloud to himself: then with scorn). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[63] thee 1817, 1828, 1829.

[68-9] 'This way . . . safe lodged.' 1817, 1828, 1829.

[73] 'I'm . . . fortunes.' 1817, 1828, 1829.

[95-102] 'Ask not my son,' said she, 'our . . . in silence!' 1817, 1828, 1829.

[112] Laska (recovering himself). Good now. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[Before 115] Bethlen (holding up his hand as if to strike him). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[116] should 1817, 1828, 1829.

[Before 118] Laska (still more recovering). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[121] You 1817, 1828, 1829.

[128] 'Bethlen! O poor Bethlen!' 1817, 1828, 1829.

[151] may 1817, 1828, 1829.

[Before 161] [Then very pompously. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[174] brave 1817, 1828, 1829.

[181-7] 'Say thou . . . cudgel' 1817, 1828, 1829.

[212]

Bathory. Go! Go! [BETHLEN breaks off and exit. BATHORY looks affectionately after him.

1817, 1828, 1829.

[After 213]

Scene changes . . . tapestry.

SAROLTA in an elegant Night Dress, and an Attendant.

1817, 1828, 1829.

[223-6] 'You'll be sure,' said he, 'To meet with PART . . . pray you!' 1817, 1828, 1829.

[228-9] 'It is . . . backwards.' 1817, 1828, 1829.

[234] they 1817, 1828, 1829.

[257] soul 1817, 1828, 1829.

[272] villain] ingrate 1817, 1828, 1829.

[300] me 1817.

[311] Stained with adulterous blood, and— [Then to Sarolta.

1817, 1828, 1829.

[After 322] [EMERICK points his hand haughtily towards BETHLEN, who catching a sight of the signet, seizes his hand and eagerly observes the signet, then flings the hand back with indignant joy. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[339] now 1817, 1828, 1829.

[341] half 1817, 1828, 1829.

[342] that 1817, 1828, 1829.

[After 353] [Pointing to the sword which BETHLEN had been disarmed of by the Attendants. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[357]

Casimir. Hush! Hush! [In an under voice.

1817, 1828, 1829.

[After 362] [Embracing her. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[After 365] [Exeunt consulting. 1817, 1828, 1829.

END OF ACT III. 1817.



ACT IV

SCENE I

A glade in a wood. Enter CASIMIR looking anxiously around.

Casimir. This needs must be the spot! O, here he comes!

Enter LORD RUDOLPH.

Well met, Lord Rudolph!—— Your whisper was not lost upon my ear, And I dare trust—

Lord Rudolph. Enough! the time is precious! You left Temeswar late on yester-eve? 5 And sojourned there some hours?

Casimir. I did so!

Lord Rudolph. Heard you Aught of a hunt preparing?

Casimir. Yes; and met The assembled huntsmen!

Lord Rudolph. Was there no word given?

Casimir. The word for me was this:—The royal Leopard Chases thy milk-white dedicated Hind. 10

Lord Rudolph. Your answer?

Casimir. As the word proves false or true Will Casimir cross the hunt, or join the huntsmen!

Lord Rudolph. The event redeemed their pledge?

Casimir. It did, and therefore Have I sent back both pledge and invitation. The spotless Hind hath fled to them for shelter, 15 And bears with her my seal of fellowship! [They take hands.

Lord Rudolph. But Emerick! how when you reported to him Sarolta's disappearance, and the flight Of Bethlen with his guards?

Casimir. O he received it As evidence of their mutual guilt. In fine, 20 With cozening warmth condoled with, and dismissed me.

Lord Rudolph. I entered as the door was closing on you: His eye was fixed, yet seemed to follow you,— With such a look of hate, and scorn and triumph, As if he had you in the toils already, 25 And were then choosing where to stab you first. But hush! draw back!

Casimir. This nook is at the furthest From any beaten track.

Lord Rudolph. There! mark them!

[Points to where LASKA and PESTALUTZ cross the Stage.

Casimir. Laska!

Lord Rudolph. One of the two I recognized this morning; His name is Pestalutz: a trusty ruffian 30 Whose face is prologue still to some dark murder. Beware no stratagem, no trick of message, Dispart you from your servants.

Casimir (aside). I deserve it. The comrade of that ruffian is my servant: The one I trusted most and most preferred. 35 But we must part. What makes the king so late? It was his wont to be an early stirrer.

Lord Rudolph. And his main policy. To enthral the sluggard nature in ourselves Is, in good truth, the better half of the secret To enthral the world: for the will governs all. 40 See, the sky lowers! the cross-winds waywardly Chase the fantastic masses of the clouds With a wild mockery of the coming hunt!

Casimir. Mark yonder mass! I make it wear the shape Of a huge ram that butts with head depressed. 45

Lord Rudolph (smiling). Belike, some stray sheep of the oozy flock, Which, if bards lie not, the Sea-shepherds tend, Glaucus or Proteus. But my fancy shapes it A monster couchant on a rocky shelf.

Casimir. Mark too the edges of the lurid mass— 50 Restless, as if some idly-vexing Sprite, On swift wing coasting by, with tetchy hand Pluck'd at the ringlets of the vaporous Fleece. These are sure signs of conflict nigh at hand, And elemental war!

[A single trumpet heard at some distance.

Lord Rudolph. That single blast 55 Announces that the tyrant's pawing courser Neighs at the gate. [Trumpets. Hark! now the king comes forth! For ever 'midst this crash of horns and clarions He mounts his steed, which proudly rears an-end While he looks round at ease, and scans the crowd, 60 Vain of his stately form and horsemanship! I must away! my absence may be noticed.

Casimir. Oft as thou canst, essay to lead the hunt Hard by the forest-skirts; and ere high noon Expect our sworn confederates from Temeswar. 65 I trust, ere yet this clouded sun slopes westward, That Emerick's death, or Casimir's, will appease The manes of Zapolya and Kiuprili! [Exit RUDOLPH. The traitor, Laska!—— And yet Sarolta, simple, inexperienced, 70 Could see him as he was, and often warned me. Whence learned she this?—O she was innocent! And to be innocent is Nature's wisdom! The fledge-dove knows the prowlers of the air, Feared soon as seen, and flutters back to shelter. 75 And the young steed recoils upon his haunches, The never-yet-seen adder's hiss first heard. O surer than Suspicion's hundred eyes Is that fine sense, which to the pure in heart, By mere oppugnancy of their own goodness, 80 Reveals the approach of evil. Casimir! O fool! O parricide! through yon wood did'st thou, With fire and sword, pursue a patriot father, A widow and an orphan. Dar'st thou then (Curse-laden wretch) put forth these hands to raise 85 The ark, all sacred, of thy country's cause? Look down in pity on thy son, Kiuprili! And let this deep abhorrence of his crime, Unstained with selfish fears, be his atonement! O strengthen him to nobler compensation 90 In the deliverance of his bleeding country! [Exit CASIMIR.

Scene changes to the mouth of a Cavern, as in Act II. ZAPOLYA and GLYCINE discovered.

Zapolya. Our friend is gone to seek some safer cave: Do not then leave me long alone, Glycine! Having enjoyed thy commune, loneliness, That but oppressed me hitherto, now scares. 95

Glycine. I shall know Bethlen at the furthest distance, And the same moment I descry him, lady, I will return to you. [Exit GLYCINE.

[Enter OLD BATHORY, speaking as he enters.

Old Bathory. Who hears? A friend! A messenger from him who bears the signet!

Zapolya. He hath the watch-word!—Art thou not Bathory? 100

Old Bathory. O noble lady! greetings from your son!

[BATHORY kneels.

Zapolya. Rise! rise! Or shall I rather kneel beside thee, And call down blessings from the wealth of Heaven Upon thy honoured head? When thou last saw'st me I would full fain have knelt to thee, and could not, 105 Thou dear old man! How oft since then in dreams Have I done worship to thee, as an angel Bearing my helpless babe upon thy wings!

Old Bathory. O he was born to honour! Gallant deeds And perilous hath he wrought since yester-eve. 110 Now from Temeswar (for to him was trusted A life, save thine, the dearest) he hastes hither—

Zapolya. Lady Sarolta mean'st thou?

Old Bathory. She is safe. The royal brute hath overleapt his prey, And when he turned, a sworded Virtue faced him. 115 My own brave boy—O pardon, noble lady! Your son——

Zapolya. Hark! Is it he?

Old Bathory. I hear a voice Too hoarse for Bethlen's! 'Twas his scheme and hope, Long ere the hunters could approach the forest, To have led you hence.—Retire.

Zapolya. O life of terrors! 120

Old Bathory. In the cave's mouth we have such 'vantage ground That even this old arm—

[Exeunt ZAPOLYA and BATHORY into the cave.

Enter LASKA and PESTALUTZ.

Laska. Not a step further!

Pestalutz. Dastard! was this your promise to the king?

Laska. I have fulfilled his orders. Have walked with you As with a friend: have pointed out Lord Casimir: 125 And now I leave you to take care of him. For the king's purposes are doubtless friendly.

Pestalutz. Be on your guard, man!

Laska. Ha! what now?

Pestalutz. Behind you! 'Twas one of Satan's imps, that grinned and threatened you For your most impudent hope to cheat his master! 130

Laska. Pshaw! What! you think 'tis fear that makes me leave you?

Pestalutz. Is't not enough to play the knave to others, But thou must lie to thine own heart?

Laska. Friend! Laska will be found at his own post, Watching elsewhere for the king's interest. 135 There's a rank plot that Laska must hunt down, 'Twixt Bethlen and Glycine!

Pestalutz. What! the girl Whom Laska saw the war-wolf tear in pieces?

Laska. Well! Take my arms! Hark! should your javelin fail you, These points are tipt with venom. [Seeing GLYCINE without. By Heaven! Glycine! 140 Now as you love the king, help me to seize her!

[They run out after GLYCINE. Enter BATHORY from the cavern.

Old Bathory. Rest, lady, rest! I feel in every sinew A young man's strength returning! Which way went they? The shriek came thence. [Enter GLYCINE.

Glycine. Ha! weapons here? Then, Bethlen, thy Glycine 145 Will die with thee or save thee!

[She seizes them and rushes out. BATHORY following. Music, and Peasants with hunting spears cross the stage, singing chorally.

CHORAL SONG

Up, up! ye dames, ye lasses gay! To the meadows trip away. 'Tis you must tend the flocks this morn, And scare the small birds from the corn. 150 Not a soul at home may stay: For the shepherds must go With lance and bow To hunt the wolf in the woods to-day.

Leave the hearth and leave the house 155 To the cricket and the mouse: Find grannam out a sunny seat, With babe and lambkin at her feet. Not a soul at home may stay: For the shepherds must go 160 With lance and bow To hunt the wolf in the woods to-day.

[Exeunt Huntsmen.

Re-enter BATHORY, BETHLEN, and GLYCINE.

Glycine. And now once more a woman——

Bethlen. Was it then That timid eye, was it those maiden hands That sped the shaft, which saved me and avenged me? 165

Old Bathory. 'Twas as a vision blazoned on a cloud By lightning, shaped into a passionate scheme Of life and death! I saw the traitor, Laska, Stoop and snatch up the javelin of his comrade; The point was at your back, when her shaft reached him. 170 The coward turned, and at the self-same instant The braver villain fell beneath your sword.

[Enter ZAPOLYA.

Zapolya. Bethlen! my child! and safe too!

Bethlen. Mother! Queen. Royal Zapolya! name me Andreas! Nor blame thy son, if being a king, he yet 175 Hath made his own arm minister of his justice. So do the gods who launch the thunderbolt!

Zapolya. O Raab Kiuprili! Friend! Protector! Guide! In vain we trenched the altar round with waters, A flash from Heaven hath touched the hidden incense— 180

Bethlen. And that majestic form that stood beside thee Was Raab Kiuprili!

Zapolya. It was Raab Kiuprili; As sure as thou art Andreas, and the king.

Old Bathory. Hail Andreas! hail my king!

Andreas. Stop, thou revered one, Lest we offend the jealous destinies 185 By shouts ere victory. Deem it then thy duty To pay this homage, when 'tis mine to claim it.

Glycine. Accept thine hand-maid's service! [Kneeling.

Zapolya. Raise her, son! O raise her to thine arms! she saved thy life, And through her love for thee, she saved thy mother's! 190 Hereafter thou shalt know, that this dear maid Hath other and hereditary claims Upon thy heart, and with Heaven guarded instinct But carried on the work her sire began!

Andreas. Dear maid! more dear thou canst not be! the rest 195 Shall make my love religion. Haste we hence: For as I reached the skirts of this high forest, I heard the noise and uproar of the chase, Doubling its echoes from the mountain foot.

Glycine. Hark! sure the hunt approaches.

[Horn without, and afterwards distant thunder.

Zapolya. O Kiuprili! 200

Old Bathory. The demon-hunters of the middle air Are in full cry, and scare with arrowy fire The guilty! Hark! now here, now there, a horn Swells singly with irregular blast! the tempest Has scattered them! [Horns at a distance.

Zapolya. O Heavens! where stays Kiuprili? 205

Old Bathory. The wood will be surrounded! leave me here.

Andreas. My mother! let me see thee once in safety. I too will hasten back, with lightning's speed, To seek the hero!

Old Bathory. Haste! my life upon it I'll guide him safe.

Andreas (thunder). Ha! what a crash was there! 210 Heaven seems to claim a mightier criminal Than yon vile subaltern.

Zapolya. Your behest, High powers, Lo, I obey! To the appointed spirit, That hath so long kept watch round this drear cavern, In fervent faith, Kiuprili, I entrust thee! 215

[Exeunt ZAPOLYA, ANDREAS, and GLYCINE.

Old Bathory. Yon bleeding corse may work us mischief still: Once seen, 'twill rouse alarm and crowd the hunt From all parts towards this spot. Stript of its armour, I'll drag it hither.

[Exit BATHORY. Several Hunters cross the Stage. Enter KIUPRILI.

Raab Kiuprili (throwing off his disguise). Since Heaven alone can save me, Heaven alone 220 Shall be my trust. Haste! haste! Zapolya, flee! Gone! Seized perhaps? Oh no, let me not perish Despairing of Heaven's justice! Faint, disarmed, Each sinew powerless; senseless rock, sustain me! Thou art parcel of my native land! A sword! 225 Ha! and my sword! Zapolya hath escaped, The murderers are baffled, and there lives An Andreas to avenge Kiuprili's fall!— There was a time, when this dear sword did flash As dreadful as the storm-fire from mine arm— 230 I can scarce raise it now—yet come, fell tyrant! And bring with thee my shame and bitter anguish, To end his work and thine! Kiuprili now Can take the death-blow as a soldier should.

[Re-enter BATHORY, with the dead body of PESTALUTZ.

Old Bathory. Poor tool and victim of another's guilt! 235 Thou follow'st heavily: a reluctant weight! Good truth, it is an undeservd honour That in Zapolya and Kiuprili's cave A wretch like thee should find a burial-place. 'Tis he!—In Andreas' and Zapolya's name 240 Follow me, reverend form! Thou need'st not speak, For thou canst be no other than Kiuprili.

Kiuprili. And are they safe? [Noise without.

Old Bathory. Conceal yourself, my lord! I will mislead them!

Kiuprili. Is Zapolya safe?

Old Bathory. I doubt it not; but haste, haste, I conjure you! [Enter CASIMIR. 245

Casimir. Monster! Thou shalt not now escape me!

Old Bathory. Stop, lord Casimir! It is no monster.

Casimir. Art thou too a traitor? Is this the place where Emerick's murderers lurk? Say where is he that, tricked in this disguise, 250 First lured me on, then scared my dastard followers? Thou must have seen him. Say where is th' assassin?

Old Bathory. There lies the assassin! slain by that same sword That was descending on his curst employer, When entering thou beheld'st Sarolta rescued! 255

Casimir. Strange providence! what then was he who fled me? Thy looks speak fearful things! Whither, old man! Would thy hand point me?

Old Bathory. Casimir, to thy father.

Casimir. The curse! the curse! Open and swallow me, Unsteady earth! Fall, dizzy rocks! and hide me! 260

Old Bathory. Speak, speak, my lord!

Kiuprili. Bid him fulfil his work!

Casimir. Thou art Heaven's immediate minister, dread spirit! O for sweet mercy, take some other form, And save me from perdition and despair!

Old Bathory. He lives!

Casimir. Lives! A father's curse can never die! 265

Kiuprili. O Casimir! Casimir!

Old Bathory. Look! he doth forgive you! Hark! 'tis the tyrant's voice. [EMERICK'S voice without.

Casimir. I kneel, I kneel! Retract thy curse! O, by my mother's ashes, Have pity on thy self-abhorring child! If not for me, yet for my innocent wife, 270 Yet for my country's sake, give my arm strength, Permitting me again to call thee father!

Kiuprili. Son, I forgive thee! Take thy father's sword; When thou shalt lift it in thy country's cause, In that same instant doth thy father bless thee! 275

[Enter EMERICK.

Emerick. Fools! Cowards! follow—or by Hell I'll make you Find reason to fear Emerick, more than all The mummer-fiends that ever masqueraded As gods or wood-nymphs!— Ha! 'tis done then! Our necessary villain hath proved faithful, 280 And there lies Casimir, and our last fears! Well!—Aye, well!—— And is it not well? For though grafted on us, And filled too with our sap, the deadly power Of the parent poison-tree lurked in its fibres: 285 There was too much of Raab Kiuprili in him: The old enemy looked at me in his face, E'en when his words did flatter me with duty.

Enter CASIMIR and BATHORY.

Old Bathory (aside). This way they come!

Casimir (aside). Hold them in check awhile, The path is narrow! Rudolph will assist thee. 290

Emerick (aside). And ere I ring the alarum of my sorrow, I'll scan that face once more, and murmur—Here Lies Casimir, the last of the Kiuprilis! Hell! 'tis Pestalutz!

Casimir (coming forward). Yes, thou ingrate Emerick! 'Tis Pestalutz! 'tis thy trusty murderer! 295 To quell thee more, see Raab Kiuprili's sword!

Emerick. Curses on it and thee! Think'st thou that petty omen Dare whisper fear to Emerick's destiny? Ho! Treason! Treason!

Casimir. Then have at thee, tyrant!

[They fight. EMERICK falls.

Emerick. Betrayed and baffled 300 By mine own tool!——Oh! [Dies.

Casimir. Hear, hear, my Father! Thou should'st have witnessed thine own deed. O Father, Wake from that envious swoon! The tyrant's fallen! Thy sword hath conquered! As I lifted it Thy blessing did indeed descend upon me; 305 Dislodging the dread curse. It flew forth from me And lighted on the tyrant!

Enter RUDOLPH, BATHORY, and Attendants.

Rudolph and Bathory. Friends! friends to Casimir!

Casimir. Rejoice, Illyrians! the usurper's fallen.

Rudolph. So perish tyrants! so end usurpation! 310

Casimir. Bear hence the body, and move slowly on! One moment—— Devoted to a joy, that bears no witness, I follow you, and we will greet our countrymen With the two best and fullest gifts of heaven— 315 A tyrant fallen, a patriot chief restored!

[CASIMIR enters the Cavern.

SCENE.—Chamber in CASIMIR'S Castle. Confederates discovered.

First Confederate. It cannot but succeed, friends. From this palace E'en to the wood, our messengers are posted With such short interspace, that fast as sound Can travel to us, we shall learn the event! 320

Enter another Confederate.

What tidings from Temeswar?

Second Confederate. With one voice Th' assembled chieftains have deposed the tyrant: He is proclaimed the public enemy, And the protection of the law withdrawn.

First Confederate. Just doom for him, who governs without law! 325 Is it known on whom the sov'reignty will fall?

Second Confederate. Nothing is yet decided: but report Points to Lord Casimir. The grateful memory Of his renownd father——

Enter SAROLTA.

Hail to Sarolta!

Sarolta. Confederate friends! I bring to you a joy 330 Worthy your noble cause! Kiuprili lives, And from his obscure exile, hath returned To bless our country. More and greater tidings Might I disclose; but that a woman's voice Would mar the wondrous tale. Wait we for him, 335 The partner of the glory—Raab Kiuprili; For he alone is worthy to announce it.

[Shouts of 'Kiuprili, Kiuprili,' and 'The Tyrant's fallen,' without. Enter KIUPRILI, CASIMIR, RUDOLPH, BATHORY, and Attendants.

Raab Kiuprili. Spare yet your joy, my friends! A higher waits you: Behold, your Queen!

[Enter ZAPOLYA and ANDREAS royally attired, with GLYCINE.

Confederate. Comes she from heaven to bless us?

Other Confederates. It is! it is!

Zapolya. Heaven's work of grace is full! 340 Kiuprili, thou art safe!

Raab Kiuprili. Royal Zapolya! To the heavenly powers, pay we our duty first; Who not alone preserved thee, but for thee And for our country, the one precious branch Of Andreas' royal house. O countrymen, 345 Behold your King! And thank our country's genius, That the same means which have preserved our sovereign, Have likewise reared him worthier of the throne By virtue than by birth. The undoubted proofs Pledged by his royal mother, and this old man, 350 (Whose name henceforth be dear to all Illyrians) We haste to lay before the assembled council.

All. Hail, Andreas! Hail, Illyria's rightful king!

Andreas. Supported thus, O friends! 'twere cowardice Unworthy of a royal birth, to shrink 355 From the appointed charge. Yet, while we wait The awful sanction of convened Illyria, In this brief while, O let me feel myself The child, the friend, the debtor!—Heroic mother!— But what can breath add to that sacred name? 360 Kiuprili! gift of Providence, to teach us That loyalty is but the public form Of the sublimest friendship, let my youth Climb round thee, as the vine around its elm: Thou my support and I thy faithful fruitage. 365 My heart is full, and these poor words express not, They are but an art to check its over-swelling. Bathory! shrink not from my filial arms! Now, and from henceforth thou shalt not forbid me To call thee father! And dare I forget 370 The powerful intercession of thy virtue, Lady Sarolta? Still acknowledge me Thy faithful soldier!—But what invocation Shall my full soul address to thee, Glycine? Thou sword that leap'dst forth from a bed of roses: 375 Thou falcon-hearted dove?

Zapolya. Hear that from me, son! For ere she lived, her father saved thy life, Thine, and thy fugitive mother's!

Casimir. Chef Ragozzi! O shame upon my head! I would have given her To a base slave!

Zapolya. Heaven overruled thy purpose, 380 And sent an angel to thy house to guard her! Thou precious bark! freighted with all our treasures! The sports of tempests, and yet ne'er the victim, How many may claim salvage in thee! Take her, son! A queen that brings with her a richer dowry 385 Than orient kings can give!

Sarolta. A banquet waits!— On this auspicious day, for some few hours I claim to be your hostess. Scenes so awful With flashing light, force wisdom on us all! E'en women at the distaff hence may see, 390 That bad men may rebel, but ne'er be free; May whisper, when the waves of faction foam, None love their country, but who love their home: For freedom can with those alone abide, Who wear the golden chain, with honest pride, 395 Of love and duty, at their own fire-side: While mad ambition ever doth caress Its own sure fate, in its own restlessness!

END OF ZAPOLYA.

LINENOTES:

[After 16] [They take hands, &c. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[37] Lord Rudolph. And his main policy too. 1817.

[44-55]

Casimir. Mark too, the edges of yon lurid mass! Restless and vext, as if some angering hand, With fitful, tetchy snatch, unrolled and pluck'd The jetting ringlets of the vaporous fleece! These are sure signs of conflict nigh at hand, And elemental war!

1817-1851.

[Note.—The text of 1829, 1831 is inscribed in Notebook 20 (1808-1825).]

[47] Which, as Poets tell us, the Sea-Shepherds tend, Notebook 20.

[48] my 1828, 1829.

[57]

Neighs at the gate. [A volley of Trumpets.

1817, 1828, 1829.

[After 68: [Exit RUDOLPH and manet CASIMIR.

[95-6]

That but oppressed me hitherto, now scares me. You will ken Bethlen?

Glycine. O at farthest distance, Yea, oft where Light's own courier-beam exhausted Drops at the threshold, and forgets its message, A something round me of a wider reach Feels his approach, and trembles back to tell me.

MS. correction (in the margin of Zapolya 1817) inserted in text of P. and D. W. 1877, iv. pp. 270-71.

[After 99] [ZAPOLYA, who had been gazing affectionately after GLYCINE, starts at BATHORY'S voice. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[Before 128] Pestalutz (affecting to start). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[128] Laska (in affright). Ha, &c. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[Before 134] Laska (pompously). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[137] Pestalutz (with a sneer). What! &c. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[Before 139] Laska (throwing down a bow and arrows). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[139] Take] there's 1817, 1828, 1829.

[140]

These points are tipt with venom.

[Starts and sees GLYCINE without.

1817, 1828, 1829.

[After 141] [They run . . . GLYCINE, and she shrieks without: then enter, &c. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[144]

The shriek came thence. [Clash of swords, and BETHLEN'S voice heard from behind the scenes; GLYCINE enters alarmed; then, as seeing LASKA'S bow and arrows.

1817, 1828, 1829.

[After 146] [She seizes . . . following her. Lively and irregular music, and Peasants with hunting spears, &c. 1817, 1828, 1829.]

[After 162] Re-enter, as the Huntsmen pass off, BATHORY, &c. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[Before 163] Glycine (leaning on Bethlen). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[Before 166] Bathory (to Bethlen exultingly). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[Linenote Before 181: Bethlen (hastily). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[184]

Bathory. Hail . . . my king! [Triumphantly.

1817, 1828, 1829.

[205]

Has scattered them! [Horns heard as from different places at a distance.

1817, 1828, 1829.

[207] thee 1817, 1828, 1829.

[After 209] [Thunder again. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[After 211] [Pointing without to the body of PESTALUTZ. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[213] Lo] Low 1828, 1829.]

[After 215] [Exeunt . . . GLYCINE, ANDREAS, having in haste dropt his sword. Manet BATHORY. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[216] Yon bleeding corse (pointing to Pestalutz's body) 1817, 1828, 1829.

[219]

I'll drag it hither. [Exit BATHORY. After awhile several Hunters cross the stage as scattered. Some time after, enter KIUPRILI in his disguise, fainting with fatigue, and as pursued.

1817, 1828, 1829.

[221]

Shall be my trust. [Then speaking as to ZAPOLYA in the Cavern. Haste! . . . flee!

[He enters the Cavern, and then returns in alarm.

1817, 1828, 1829.

[225]

Thou art parcel of my native land. [Then observing the sword.